Mourning a Life
by goldiejefferson
Summary: Post Girl in The Fireplace - Rose wonders about "Her" Doctor and what she lost


**Although I love the 10****th**** Doctor I can't help but feel that the 9****th**** was more a soul mate to Rose. Especially after re-watching School Reunion and GITF. My thoughts about how Rose might react after the double whammy. First Doctor Who fic so be kind but please let me know what you think! Not sure if I should add a chapter to continue this train of thought. **

Rose moved silently on the grating as she made her way towards the green-lit console room. It was late, or maybe early, she couldn't tell. As the TARDIS moved through the Vortex, time lost its usual footholds or anchors to wrap itself around – no rhythmic planetary movements. Usually Rose didn't mind. But their recent trip to 18th century Paris, clockwork aliens and of course Madame de Pompadour had stripped her of her typical TARDIS comfort. She felt untethered, like she was falling rather than flying through the Vortex. All of which led to her late/early tiptoe into the console room. She nervously chewed on the cuticles of her left thumb as she edged towards the console, hoping - no needing the Doctor to not be there. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath until she confirmed his absence. No pinstriped legs sprawled under the console. No coat thrown over the coral pillar. The room was empty and she walked quickly over to the monitor tilting it down to her height. Without hesitation she said,

"Show me my Doctor."

The screen hummed to life and there he was. _**Her **_Doctor. The TARDIS always surprised her with the first image and this was no exception. The Doctor was perched on a ladder using his sonic screwdriver to adjust something on the side panels. He was looking down at what she could only assume was herself and she had forgotten the brightness of his eyes. The next image was a close-up and Rose traced a finger down the flat image of his cheek. His lips were curled up on one side showing mild amusement and again she gazed at the intenseness of the blue eyes. With her own eyes closed she leaned in and rested her forehead against the cool monitor. Rose could almost smell his distinct scent – he was deep chocolate, wet loam, warm wool. He was solid and strong and very much….gone. The tears fell and made tiny sounds as they hit the keyboard beneath the monitor.

The Doctor was unable to move. He held a cup of tea in one hand as he stood in the entryway to the console room. Watching Rose he felt a strange sensation growing. An unfamiliar and very uncomfortable sensation. His first thought when he saw Rose move confidently towards the console was that she was going to try and fly the TARDIS. He had a flippant comment ready for her that died on his lips when he heard her command to the TARDIS. He wasn't sure if he was more disturbed by what she requested or by the fact that the TARDIS responded immediately. He had always known the TARDIS approved of Rose but had no idea that it took orders from anyone other than him. But the image on the screen of his past face quickly turned resentment to jealousy and sadness. She had said "her Doctor" and he had been mildly amused that she wanted to see him and, lets admit it, a little flattered by her attention. But that drained away instantly. As he watched Rose break down and gently stroke the face of his previous form he froze in place, both pulses racing, respiration increasing. This was wrong. Very wrong.

He was watching her mourn him.

Her familiarity with the monitor and the speed that the TARDIS pulled up the images made him realize this wasn't her first time asking to see his former self. He remembered how unprepared he was when she told him after he regenerated, without a second thought, that she wanted him to change back. But after the battle with the Sycorax and the comfortable Christmas dinner with her family he felt a shift and assumed she had accepted his new form. Revelations by Cassandra on New Earth assured him she at least admired what he had become. But if she had accepted him, why was she revisiting the past?

The images began to change again showing different angles. Sometimes he was alone but usually it showed he and Rose together. The Doctor noticed the TARDIS lingered on certain pictures longer than others but it finally remained frozen on one and that's when he noticed Rose's shoulders shaking as her head dropped low. Silently he shifted forward to see this image more clearly. At first glance it didn't seem different than the others, the two of them next to the console, bodies slightly facing each other. Obviously something funny had occurred because Rose had one of her breathtakingly wide smiles that always made her eyes squeeze shut slightly. Her hair fell across her face and the Doctor could almost hear her laughter through time. But, as beautiful as she was in this image, the Doctor realized it wasn't Rose that made both she and the TARDIS linger. His former self was staring at her and the Doctor could see it in the depths of blue even if he couldn't remember the moment. That Doctor, "her" Doctor was staring with unwavering intensity and devotion without question gazing at her.

He heard Rose sigh and glance up at the monitor and in one sentence she cracked open his chest and tore his hearts.

"You would never have left me."


End file.
